


Until Next Time

by jive



Series: The Overwatch Job [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Alternate Universe - Thieves, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7855168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leverage (TV Show) AU where Jack Morrison is a grifter, thief, and master of disguise, and Gabriel Reyes is the insurance investigator that somehow ends up catching him. Sort of.</p><p>An origin story of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until Next Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all the wonderful people on the R76 Discord for helping me with edits and corrections. I love you all and can't thank you enough. <3

In the first week of his employment at Talon Insurance, Inc., Gabriel Reyes met Samuel Bishop during an investigation of a break-in. It had been some famous actor’s estate (he couldn't be that famous if Gabriel couldn't for the life of him recognize the name or the face) in Las Vegas. The house seemed to be intact; no forced entry to speak of, no suspicious security footage to be found. Besides the Talon-insured Ming Dynasty Vase being missing from its highly secured display case, there was no real indication that any sort of break-in or theft had occurred. Samuel Bishop (“ _Just Sam is fine._ ”) was 22, a very mousey sort of fellow with thick rimmed glasses, and almost unruly brown hair that covered his very blue eyes. Gabriel mostly remembered him by his very irritating habit of wringing his hands.

If Gabriel had not been told, he would have never guessed this kid was the actor's apprentice. Sam’s status as the actor’s apprentice put him under the suspicion of being involved in the theft. He — along with anyone else acquainted with the actor — had to be interviewed and questioned. His story was vindicated  — he had been confirmed to be in auditions the entire afternoon. There was no opportunity whatsoever to even get to the estate without missing an appointment, let alone bypass several layers of high-tech security to steal the priceless vase.

As it turns out, the so-called famous actor had been involved in a scandal — impregnating some hot-shot executive producer's niece — and being blackmailed. Miserly and unwilling to part with his hard-earned money, the actor decided he'd rather take advantage of the insurance policy on his vase instead, and have it “stolen” so he could cash out on the insurance claim. Gabriel later found the vase stowed away in a storage space underneath the floorboards of the actor's bedroom, hidden beneath the actor's own bed. What an idiot.

He was promptly arrested, and Talon dropped his policy faster than Gabriel could say “insurance fraud” .

“Guess I’ll need to find a new mentor, then… Or at least a new place to crash ,” Sam said with a disappointed look on his face. “It was nice meeting you, Gabriel.” They shook hands, and Sam gave Gabriel an awkward smile as he waved goodbye. Those were the last words he ever heard from Sam Bishop.

Weeks later, he caught news that some rich CEO had gotten his hands onto that very same vase (having bought it at the estate sale for the former actor's home) and tried to insure it with Talon. However, it was deemed to be a very convincing fake with nowhere near the value of the original. It didn't matter to Gabriel any more. He didn't care much. He did idly wonder what happened to the real vase and if Samuel Bishop ever found a gig or got an offer from the many auditions he'd done. He hoped so; the kid looked like he could use a break.

Gabriel did not meet Aaron York so much as he encountered him in Miami at a party atop a client’s yacht. Having recently acquired an antique bracelet which had been confirmed to have come from the wreckage of the Titanic, the client, a real estate agent, requested that the priceless piece of jewelry be insured by Talon. Of course, with the item in question being so high value, it was only obvious that they would send one of their best insurance investigators to inspect and make absolutely certain that the security measures that were in place for the bracelet were sufficient. And so, after checking the facilities, deeming the security system adequate, and securing the contract, Gabriel was invited aboard the client’s private yacht to celebrate.

Aaron York was introduced as the real estate agent’s friend, a self-made entrepreneur in vacation time-shares. Modestly well-off in his own right, handsome, and blond blond _blond_. Gabriel didn’t interact much with the man himself. From just looks alone, he could understand why the client had invited Aaron; he had charm, charisma, and an aura about him that could draw in a crowd in seconds. He — and by proxy, the client — spent much of the night surrounded by all the beautiful party goers. Gabriel couldn’t fathom having the spotlight on him as long as Aaron did; people were exhausting to deal with. Which is why Gabriel didn’t think twice when he found Aaron wandering around the yacht all alone later that night. The guy looked like he could use some time alone, and it wasn’t like the real estate agent had anything of value that was Talon-insured on the yacht for Gabriel to be on alert about.

It wasn’t until several weeks after that that Gabriel overheard at the water cooler that the client had several hundred thousand dollars worth black market diamonds stolen from that very same yacht. It was quite unfortunate, as they did not belong to the fine, upstanding real estate agent, but rather to a cartel for whom he had been smuggling various illegal and/or unsavory commodities. In reward for his failure of loyalty, the cartel gave the client a very fashionable pair of cement shoes. Subsequently, he was found at the bottom of a pool in their own penthouse condo not too long after. Gabriel couldn't really find it in him to care at all that the client had died; he hadn’t liked the man to begin with .

Gabriel stumbled across Joseph Stonewell, in Seattle when he was there for a client's original Picasso. Joseph spoke softly, and carried himself well — as expected of a well-educated art historian —  but his horrible taste in clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb. A bowtie _and_ a sweater vest? _Seriously?_ He only stayed around long enough to present Gabriel with a copy of the painting’s provenance before excusing himself in a flustered hurry. Nothing remarkable happened with the Picasso, but the heiress’ prized Faberge Egg, which she had kept in a vault hidden behind a rather tacky portrait of herself that her nephew painted, was nowhere to be found several weeks later.

Yancy Drussel, on the other hand, was an annoying Texan security consultant. While quite handsome — Gabriel immediately compared his looks to Aaron York, as they both shared remarkably similar features, especially the charming smile and golden blond hair — was still not someone Gabriel would ever consider attractive. Yancy was nothing like Aaron; he had the mouth of a sailor and the temperament of an irritable bull. Gabriel made it a point to avoid Yancy as much as he could while casing the Dallas Museum of Art for security flaws. Gabriel was working on behalf of a thoroughbred racehorse owner whose Talon-insured Remington painted was slotted to be showcased in the museum's temporary American Art collection. This time, thankfully nothing of the client's was taken, but another piece in the museum's regular collection — a golden snake armlet that dated back to the first century — had been stolen not two days later, much to the embarrassment of Mister Drussel. Gabriel couldn't help but delight a little in the schadenfreude, wishing him and the museum curator the best of luck before his return flight to Los Angeles.

Months passed and while Gabriel's work at Talon got no more or less eventful, he occasionally looked back on his jobs and briefly wondered about the people involved. How pathetic. Was his life that dull that he had nothing better to do than reflect on work? He told himself he should accept next time Amelie invited him out for drinks with some of their other coworkers to let the cases be shoved out of his mind for a while.

It wasn’t until one night Gabriel decided to review all the major jobs he’d ever worked on over the past two years that he realized that all these men looked eerily similar despite the differences in eye and hair color. He gathered as much information about all these men as he could. Some of them had close to nothing about them outside a blurb or two on a web page.  He compared all the pictures he had of each of them and nearly slapped himself in the forehead. These men all shared the same nose, same jawline, same cheekbones, facial proportions, etc. They were all the same man. And this man, whoever the hell this master of disguise was, had been present or involved in some way or another with his clients, all of whom had other artworks, antiques, jewelry, and valuables stolen from them not so shortly after Gabriel had left. This guy was the culprit.

Either all the police and investigators involved involved in catching the culprits for the thefts were grossly incompetent, or this guy was just that good of a thief. No, _grifter_. No regular thief would go through so many hoops and put forth so much effort to deceive when they could steal the items so easily without a trace. Gabriel found himself both extremely frustrated and intrigued. Just who the hell was he!?

When Gabriel caught Matthew Shaw, avid art student, in the Museum of Modern Art’s vault in the middle of removing a Calder painting from its frame, he just knew he had to act. There was no way this guy was getting away.

“Oh, Mister Reyes, what a surprise to see you here!” 'Matthew' feigned surprise, backing away from the priceless artwork, “I thought you were with the curator.” The gall of this man to act like he hadn't been caught in the act pissed Gabriel off to no end. Clearly he didn't see Gabriel as a threat, and given how intimidating Gabriel knew he presented himself to be at all times, it was obvious this asshole thought he could get away. Gabriel was going to make this cocky asshole regret underestimating him.

“Yeah, I was. Now I'm here, where — last I checked, was a restricted area where an average art student such as yourself shouldn't be. Not unless you somehow got yourself a gig as the night shift security, whom I _know_ is on patrol as we speak,” Gabriel replied, clearly irritated given his tone of voice and his bad habit of cracking his knuckles with just his thumbs. “So tell me, what exactly are you doing here, 'Matthew'? Or should I say ‘Samuel Bishop’? Or ‘Aaron York’?”

‘Matthew’ pursed his lips and tugged the brown wig off of his head. Just like that, his body language changed and he gave off the air of a completely different person. “Well, well, I'm not sure whether to be surprised that I've been caught or disappointed that it took this long. And by an _insurance investigator_ of all people, to boot,” ‘Matthew’ laughed, “I was hoping it'd at least be someone cool like a federal agent or Interpol, or _something_.”

“Interpol? You really must have your head up your ass if you think you're that big of a deal to have Interpol out for your head,” Gabriel sneered.

He was met by an ice cold glare from piercing blue eyes. “I've been doing this long before you even sent in your resume to Talon, Reyes. You really think I'd be so narrow-minded that I'd restrict myself to just the U.S.?” 'Matthew' shot back, rolling up his sleeves, and tossing his glasses across the room.

 _So this is how it's going to be, then…_ Gabriel mused, undoing his own tie and rolling up his own sleeves. He cracked his knuckles once more, readying himself for a fight. He really wished it wouldn't come to this, but there was no way he could use his sidearm, especially not in such an enclosed space. He risked damaging — or worse, destroying — a priceless work of art. “No need to sound so defensive, _Matthew_ , I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. I'm sure mommy's proud of you for being an international criminal.”

'Matthew' said nothing, raising his fists, and shifting into a fighting stance.

“Before I take you in, though, I should probably ask: what name should I give to the police for the arrest report when they get here? I only ask because I know how hard it's going to be hard for you to talk with some teeth missing and a lot of broken bones,” Gabriel jeered.

“That's assuming you're good enough to even touch me,” ‘Matthew’ shot back. “Doesn't matter what name you use, because by the time the cops get here, I'll be long gone.”

“Oh? And how do you figure that, Sunshine?”

'Matthew' smiled, “Hmm, ‘Sunshine’... I like that.” Before Gabriel could even act, 'Matthew' whipped out a device from behind him — _a hidden holster on his back_ , Gabriel later concluded — aimed directly at Gabriel, and pulled the trigger. Immediately, Gabriel went down for the count, screaming as electricity coursed his body and rendered him completely paralyzed from the shocks and convulsions.

“F-Fuck!!” Gabriel managed to curse out loud, watching helplessly as 'Matthew' rummaged through a duffel bag with his unoccupied hand and pulled out a cloth and small bottle. _Oh fuck no_.

“No hard feelings. I have an appointment to keep, and getting caught just isn't in the plans for today,” 'Matthew' hummed, letting go of the taser’s trigger. Though the current stopped, Gabriel's body was still undergoing spasms and painful seizes, rendering him unable to move.There was no way he would be able to fight back when the damp cloth was placed gently but firmly over his nose and mouth. “Goodnight, Mister Reyes,” were the last words he heard before completely blacking out.

He awoke much later to the feeling of being shaken by the same security guard he had mentioned before.“Mister Reyes, are you okay?! You passed out in the middle of the hallway!” Gabriel sat up looked around, dazed. Indeed, he was no longer in the vault. He was instead in the hallway, several feet from where the vault door stood. What happened? Had 'Matthew' moved him? Speaking of 'Matthew'… _Shit, the Calder!_

“The Vault… check the Vault,” Gabriel growled, furious at the realization that he'd been outplayed. A taser and chloroform? How underhanded! Obediently, the guard rushed over and inserted his ID chip. He then placed his palm on the digital scanner as his eye looked into the retinal reader; a few seconds passed before the system verified his identity and unlocked the heavy steel door. How the hell did 'Matthew' even get past this? Gabriel only got in because 'Matthew' had already entered; though the door was closed, safety precautions made it unable to lock should anyone still be inside. Gabriel shook the question from his head — he'd figure that out later. What was most important now was the safety and presence of all of the Vault’s contents.

To his shock and utter disbelief, everything in the Vault was present and accounted for — even the Calder that 'Matthew' had been carefully prying loose with professional tools. Nothing looked out of place — as if nobody had ever been inside. Gabriel would have chalked it up to some weird, extremely vivid dream had it not been for the two holes in his shirt — from where the taser prongs pierced through — the ache wracking his entire body, and the small card tucked into the corner of the Calder painting.

  
  


What a cheeky asshole.


End file.
